Scars
by my insides are blue
Summary: The image staring back at her was so gruesome and so unfamiliar to her, even after all these weeks that she couldn't help it when a soft strangled cry escaped her lips. - Mentions of Ron/Hermione and unrequited!Ron/Lavendar.


**Scars  
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_**Note - For Round 1.2 in the Hogwarts Games 2012 on HPFC with the pairing Ron/Lavender. **_

_**And also for the Character A Week Competition, with the prompt "waves."  
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**_Hope you enjoy this!_  
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"Do you need anything else, m'dear?" asked the Healer kindly.

She shook her head quickly. The Healer, with her brown kind eyes, gave her a pitying glance before nodding. She turned around and went off to attend to the other patients in the ward, sliding the white curtain, which hid Lavender from the view of the room, around her bed again.

She was grateful for the curtain. It gave her some privacy, though the reason for which it was placed could not be pleasing to her.

She hated this place. She hated the white sheets, the white curtains, the white gowns that she was forced to wear. She hated the Healers, with their kind compassion and sympathy. She hated the people who went past her every day, and caught a sight of her face accidentally and shot her a look of pity.

She hated their pity. She neither needed it nor wanted it.

She also was aware that many were actually afraid of her. They were all apprehensive that she would suddenly show wolfish characteristics or turn on the next full moon. But the Healers had assured her mother that the bite wasn't as intense.

_Of course, it was easier for them to say,_ she thought bitterly.

She shook out of her reverie, and quietly held her breathe to listen. She couldn't see the rest of the patients, but she heard Ms. May, the Healer who had been checking on her, talking with another patient across the room.

When she decided it was safe, she sat up and lifted her pillow. A small, plain mirror was lying underneath it, clearly hidden in a way as to escape the sight of even the Healers who came to check on her everyday.

She snatched it up, but before looking into the mirror, she closed her eyes and braced herself. Only then, she dared to look at her reflection.

The image staring back at her was so gruesome and so unfamiliar to her, even after all these weeks that she couldn't help it when a soft strangled cry escaped her lips. The left side of her face was completely covered in a long deep gash that ran from the corner of her eye to her jaw line. There were countless scratches on her cheeks and down her neck, though none as deep as the long gash, but still visible. A small portion of the flesh above her upper lip looked almost raw, but when she touched it with her fingers, it didn't hurt.

She knew that there were other marks down her forearms and chest; other reminders of the terrible battle, but they remained hidden by her clothes.

But seeing her once beautiful face so disoriented, all that she could do was stare back at herself and wish that it wasn't true.

Tears stained her cheeks before she realized that she was crying. She didn't bother to brush them away.

Suddenly, the door to the ward burst open and she heard shuffling feet and low voices. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table seeing that it was only around midday.

Thinking that it was probably a visitor for one of the other patients, she left her thoughts to wonder as she continued to stare at her reflection in the mirror.

There were more footsteps, closer to her bed this time. Ms. May was saying,"…she has been much more co-operative in the last few days, but her progress—"Her voice trailed off, and Lavender realized that she was talking about _her_ and was coming towards _her_ bed.

She barely managed to tuck the mirror again under the pillow and rub off her tears with her hands before the curtain was thrown aside, and Ms. May stood there with a tall red headed boy behind her. "You have a visitor, Ms. Brown," she said with a bright smile.

The boy behind her stood awkwardly, looking almost embarrassed and reluctant to step in front of Ms. May. He looked the same as always; with his too long red hair and bright blue eyes and freckled skin. The only difference was that he looked even taller and lankier than usual, if that was possible.

She was too surprised and astonished to care that her scars were exposed to the one person who she wanted to hide them from.

"Hey, Lavender," he said, trying to smile, but it came out looking more like a grimace, like he'd rather be anywhere else but here at this very moment.

"Well," said Ms. May, beaming at the two of them and blissfully unaware of the tension in the atmosphere, "I'll leave you two now."

She turned around and disappeared out the door, not bothering to slide the curtains around Lavender's bed behind her.

Lavender dropped her eyes to the floor not knowing where else to look. He looked equally unsure of what to say, but thankfully, she noticed he wasn't staring at her scars.

"So, how have you been feeling?" he asked nervously.

She replied after a moment, with only a touch of bitterness in her voice, "What do you think?"

He didn't look surprised at her tone, and instead seemed to gain more confidence by hearing the coldness in her voice. He said, "I think you look better than I expected."

She was startled, but didn't say anything.

"Can I sit down?" he asked pointing at the chair beside her bed. She gave a stiff nod, though she preferred him to stand at a distance rather than sit so close to her.

He took the seat, regardless of her stiff manner.

After a few awkward moments, she couldn't stand the suspense anymore. "Why are you here, Ron?" she asked, her voice steady and not betraying any of the emotions she felt at that moment.

"I came to see you," he said simply. "I came to see how you were doing."

She didn't look convinced, but said, "Are you satisfied?"

"Like I said, you look much better than I expected you to."

She realized that he was changed. She was surprised at his straightforwardness and the authority that she could distinguish easily in his voice. Was it the war that transformed this awkward teenager that she once knew? Was it all those months of running and hiding? Or was it the pain of losing so many, or the fame that he received afterwards? Maybe it was a mixture of all those things, she thought. But he certainly was not the same boy who she spent snogging half the time during her sixth year.

But neither was she the silly little girl who had spent her time obsessing over him at that time.

It was the realization that they had both changed which prompted her to ask him tentatively, "How are you now?"

He looked surprised, but said quickly,"I'm fine."

"How…how's Harry? And er - Hermione?" She didn't want to relive old memories, but she wanted this to be over as soon as possible.

"Harry's doing great. He's already secured himself a job at the Auror's office." He paused as a faint smile crossed his face, but then looking embarrassed added, "And…Hermione. She's fine. She's going back to Hogwarts this year though. Says she wants to complete her NEWTS."

"Oh," she said. There was just a flutter of hope in her heart, enough to make her feel disappointed when he said a little too hurriedly, "Yes, but we're planning on staying in touch."

She nodded quietly as he continued, "It's just one year and she'll be coming here for Christmas and Easter, so I guess I should be happy for her."

This was followed by another awkward silence, in which they both looked at the patient across the room who was screaming out when a Healer injected him with a dark green sickly looking liquid. She gulped and felt like she was going to be sick, and turned away.

He suddenly started, and still staring at the howling man, he said, "You've got it much better than others, Lavender, you know."

She remained silent. He continued, still avoiding her gaze, "I've spent day after day looking at the ones who have lost someone close to them. It's harder for them than the ones who died. You should be grateful you're alive. You may have scars, but they will fade some day."

She bit back a retort wanting to tell him that they would never fade, but something in the way he looked at her then made her throat tighten.

He stood up, saying, "I should go now. It's getting late."

Lavender didn't want to point out to him that it was only midday. She still stayed silent as he turned around, but then as an afterthought, she said, "Thanks for coming to see me, Ron."

He paused, and turned to face her again. There was the same look on his face again; a look of pain and self-reproach as he looked down at her.

Hesitatingly at first, but then seeming to build up his courage, he bent down and gently pressed his lips on her forehead, which thankfully was the only place that remained without any mark in her face.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne and the feel of his cool lips on her skin.

He drew back, and said in a low voice, "Goodbye, Lavender."

Waves of regret washed over her as she watched the boy – no, the man – whom she had once loved but who had never loved her back, turn around and disappear through the door. But there was also something else. There was a sense of satisfaction, of relief that maybe now she could finally move on.

"_You've got it much better than others, Lavender."_

She realized only then that Ron Weasley was right.

She may have scars that would never go away, but she was still alive today.

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**A/N: Wow, this was really challenging for me being a hardcore Romione fan. I thought I should end Ron and Lavender together, but my shipper heart couldn't take it. :P  
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**If you've read this much, please leave a review! **


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